


Push Away The Unimaginable

by imnotchason



Series: The Schuyler Sisters [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-06 01:12:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11025456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imnotchason/pseuds/imnotchason
Summary: pink, blue & yellowit seems easier to just swim down





	Push Away The Unimaginable

_**Angelica...** _

She heard only when a letter from Alexander reached her. One of the (many) downsides of living an ocean away from everyone she loved, she supposed. Still, the prolonged waiting period was only extended as she took some time to comprehend what was happening. What she was going to need to do, to be there for her sister - she was all that mattered now. Eliza would be in pieces, she knew it. Well, of course she would. Who wouldn't be, given the situation? What Angelica herself was feeling was indescribable enough, and for Eliza it was so much closer to home, had come at such a terrible time.

And now her chest was tightening and she had to take a break from the frenzied packing she'd been going at for the last however long to sit down as the reality of the situation overwhelmed her. She had always regarded her trips home as happy occasions, reasons for joy and celebration at the reunion of her and her family, yet this was anything but that. It was as near to the polar opposite of that as it was possible to be.

Her husband was by her side almost immediately after he was alerted by one of their staff that Angelica was in distress. His caring questions and soothing words barely even dented the surface of her brain, and as she relayed to him what had happened, the reason her desire to return to New York was so great, he began aiding her in packing without delay, no questions asked.

All she could think of the whole time was Eliza. Eliza, who deserved this - a present, attentive, faithful husband. Eliza, who must be feeling grief akin to double the amount of what was flowing within Angelica.

Eliza, who would need to be strong now more than ever.

The voyage to New York may well have been perilous, but she would have given anything to stay on that ship forever. Six weeks wasn't nearly enough preparation time for what was to come. 

By the time the ship docked in the harbour, Angelica knew that the worst thing about the situation was over. It had happened. Now she had to deal with the aftermath. She had convinced herself that, upon her setting foot on land, she would be greeted by an enormous wave of emotion that no one person - not even herself - could take on alone. But...

There was nothing.

The people were milling round as normal, going about their jobs as normal, passing papers between themselves **as normal**. Nothing was **normal** about this! She wanted to scream, to shake the person nearest to her by the shoulders until they saw at least some sense and broke down in the way she so desperately wanted to. Where was the emotional fanfare that this deserved? Why weren't people stopping to try and help? Why in the world was everything **normal**?

Walking through the streets alone, New York felt foreign to her. Like a new city, ready for her to explore. It was as though the knowledge of what had happened weighed down on her, forcing her to rethink everything she knew. She felt as though the ground below her was pulling her down, stifling her so she was suffocating in the intensity of what she was facing.

Nevertheless, there were no tears. She couldn't seem to form any. Calm, composed, confident - they were the rules. No matter what she may be feeling; calm, composed, confident.

Until she found herself looking over at the figure in blue that was all but sprinting towards her.

Then all rules went out the window.

_**Eliza...** _

The unmistakable smash of china brought her back to her senses. Somewhat. She must have been holding a teacup when she heard. When **he'd** told her. She knew it was broken, knew she should clean it up before one of her children got hurt, but she didn't. She stood there, looking at her husband - looking **through** him - for what seemed like an eternity.

Then that eternity ended and another one began as Angie was ushering her younger brothers from the room and someone was crying. Alexander was saying something. Philip was taking her gently by the hand and pulling her into another room, coaxing her into sitting down.

But she didn't want to sit down. It meant stopping and thinking and she didn't want to do either of those things.

Stopping was accepting what had happened.

Thinking was giving her body time to form tears.

 **No.** She wouldn't cry in front of her children. They needed her to be strong - to be the matriarch she had become the moment she'd given birth to Philip. To deflect emotions in favour of the children, to swallow feelings, to be... calm, composed and confident. They needed her to be Angelica.

She wasn't.

Sure enough, she blinked and the tears came readily. They were the confirmation that this situation wasn't a figment of her imagination; this was real and it was happening without her control. This - what she thought she'd never live to see - was happening.

Philip was hugging her now and Eliza felt as though he was the only thing grounding her, keeping her from drifting away completely. Her son. He was a grown man now, or at least thereabouts. When did that happen? Wonder overtook her carelessly, the question so prominent in her mind, trying to cancel everything else out. To get her to focus on her son. To remind her that there was still good in the world. She was starting to lose faith - yet her brain convinced her that her son was enough to push her forward. Enough to encourage her to continue trying.

It was hard. Sometimes she questioned herself, questioned whether everyone went through a time in their lives where things went from bad to worse. Would it ever end? What more could God possibly have in store for her, did he really want to test her even more? Surely this would end. Life had to go back to normal.

Angelica was coming home. Maybe having her around could make things normal. Or at least bearable. For the time being. That was all that mattered.

Right?

She didn't know whether it would help. Didn't know whether even Angelica could make any of this better. She didn't expect her to help - her older sister would need to take her own time to adjust to the situation. To grieve. Angelica deserved that. Deserved time to wrap her head about what happened.

Alexander was walking in now, and Philip was leaving. A part of her wanted to hold on to her son, grip him tightly and tell him not to go, but she couldn't seem to move. So he left, and she was cold, and she was looking through her husband again. Something inside her was telling her she couldn't look at him. It didn't even want her to be near him, wanted her to feel sick every time he touched her, to avert her eyes anytime he tried to communicate.

Her heart was completely rebelling. It was shrieking at her, screaming as though it was the one in charge here. Wanting to win over the logical part of her. Wanting what Eliza wouldn't let it have - comfort from Alexander.

 **Out**. She needed to get out.

Ignoring her husband's pleas and her children's concerned words, she stood with all the grace she could muster and walked out of her bedroom to exit the house.

Fresh air did nothing to push down the bile rising in her throat. Maybe it was cold, she didn't know. She just kept walking, heels clicking on the stone repetitively, reminding her that she was still present in the world, unlike so many others. Others who deserved it so much more than her. People were still looking at her in pity - didn't they have anything better to do? Her social status made things like this so much worse. Her personal life was constantly thrust into the the limelight, and Eliza simply had to be okay with that.

She wasn't.

The path she had taken had led her to the church. How fitting. She wondered whether or not God would listen if she shouted and wailed, begged him for answers. Why, of all times, had he decided to test her now? She wasn't ready, hadn't ever considered that she would have to prepare herself for a situation such as this. It wasn't how it was supposed to work. It couldn't be how it was supposed to work.

All the time she had been stood there (how long? two minutes, half an hour maybe? she didn't know) Eliza had thought she was alone. However, as her eyes ran out of tears and focused her blurry vision, a silhouette formed in the distance across the graveyard.

Draped in pink, it could only be one person. 

The two sisters found their way to each other and were swept into an embrace.

Both of them found themselves wishing for the impossible as they were surrounded by shades of pink and hues of blue.

Wishing for yellow.

_**And...** _

_HERE LIES  
MARGARITA 'PEGGY' SCHUYLER VAN RENSSELAER  
_ _WIFE OF STEPHEN VAN RENSSELAER III  
_ _DAUGHTER OF PHILIP SCHUYLER  
_ _1758 - 1801_

They'd never see yellow again.

**Author's Note:**

> AN: this was inspired by a piece of artwork i found on pinterest (https://uk.pinterest.com/pin/572379433881168274/) ((also feel free to follow me on pinterest if you want - shameless self plug - https://uk.pinterest.com/lizziebeccah/)) and i wrote pretty much all of it over a three hour train journey and it's barely changed. so this might be a bit different to my multi chap style wise, but i was pretty happy with how it turned out!! hope you enjoyed!<3


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